Sticky Bun
by fyren galan
Summary: Hermione is determined to get to the birth of her best friend's first child; the Welcome Witch is equally as determined to keep her out. Luckily for one of them, a Weasley man comes by just at the right time. A bit of fluff written for the Twin Exchange April Challenge.


**Disclaimer: **J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.

**Rating: **K+

**Summary: **Hermione is determined to get to the birth of her best friend's first child; the Welcome Witch is equally as determined to keep her out. Luckily for one of them, a Weasley man comes by just at the right time. A bit of fluff.

**Warnings:** a bit too much snark than is necessary for an hourly employee

Sticky Bun

Hermione stumbled out of the Floo and rushed towards the Enquiries desk, shaking bits of ash off as she went. The witch behind the desk watched her blankly whilst she tried to compose herself. She huffed out, "Ginervra Potter-Weasley, please."

The blonde witch pursed her lips and checked the list in front of her. "Name?"

"Hermione Granger."

The witch intoned, "Only next of kin are allowed on that floor, miss. Please come back after you have regained the literary skills necessary to function in polite society," and jabbed her wand irritably at the sign next to her which read: _ST MUNGO'S MATERNITY WARD…Sixth Floor…FAMILY ONLY_.

"Oh, but you see, I'm the godmother—"

The witch's eyes widened and she sat up. "In that case, pardon _me_. I had no idea!"

Hermione smiled and replied, "It's not a prob—"

She was interrupted by a bared row of straight white teeth. "That would make _so_ much of a difference if, in fact, a godmother was actually related by blood to the child, which she, _in fact_, is not. So I'll thank you to come back when Mrs. Potter has been moved to another floor or after you've undergone some intensive blood rituals to make you the heir to the Potter-Weasley family. Good _day_, miss."

She stared at the plump Welcome Witch in shock. The witch slumped back down in her chair, made a shooing motion with her hand, and called out, "Next!"

"_Pardon_ me, madam, but I am as good as family to the Potters and the Weasleys!"

"Oh, dearie me, I suppose we should change the sign to say 'As Good as Family Only' then, shouldn't we? _Next_."

The witch bared her teeth at her again and said sweetly, "Now do be a sweetheart and make your wee little way home, so that I'm not forced to call Security, dear. _NEXT!_"

Hermione turned away in disbelief and trudged back to the Floo. The nerve of that—that secretary! The sound of the insipid woman's voice barely broke her haze of rage, but the callused hand on her arm that spun her around certainly did.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley!"

"Err, hello," Charlie replied and looked down at Hermione with a grin. "Hermione, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"Well, Mr. Weasley—oh, may I call you Charlie?—this little interloper kept trying to get into the Maternity Ward, but needless to say, I am quite capable of keeping unwanted persons out!" the witch simpered.

Charlie glanced back at the witch incredulously. "Why on Earth would you do that? Hermione is more a part of the Potter family than I am, and she's an honorary Weasley."

Hermione quirked a smile up at him and said, "Hullo, involuntary-Weasley."

He tugged her towards the double doors and called over his shoulder, "It's Mr. Weasley, by the way."

Hermione's smile grew a trifle sharp.

oOo

"It's hard to believe, isn't it? That the first batch of the new Weasley generation would be birthed on April Fool's," Charlie mused as they ambled down to the tea room four hours later, leaving behind a thrilled crowd of Weasley-Potter-Grangers.

Hermione laughed. "The only unusual thing is that the sprogs weren't George and Angelina's. I reckon he's rather upset that she isn't due for another month and a half. Still, it would tickle his fancy to have the same birthday as his offspring."

Charlie groaned at the thought of George having twins. "Godric help us all in eleven years. Two sets of twins, and they'll all be in Gryffindor."

They entered the small tearoom, a soothing place sparsely occupied by exhausted visitors hunched over a steaming cuppa.

"You look dead on your feet, Hermione. Go sit down while I order us something," Charlie nudged her towards a table for two. She smiled gratefully at him and sank into the rickety chair, closing her eyes. Merlin, but she hadn't expected to work a ten hour day and then wait anxiously outside the birthing suite for what seemed like forever when she had woken up this morning.

She fell into a light doze until he slid in across from her, bringing with him a heavenly aroma. She opened her eyes and couldn't stop herself from letting out a small moan. Charlie looked satisfied.

"I thought sticky buns might still be your favourite. Go on, eat this one; it's all yours."

Sparing him a fervent thank you, she snatched the sweet up and barely prevented herself from devouring it whole. She bit into it and her eyelids fluttered shut. Oh God, the flavour was indescribable and it was fresh from the oven—it was _marvellous_.

oOo

Charlie clenched his fists in the creases of his trousers, and tried not to reach across the tiny table and ravish the woman there who was currently in the throes of what looked to be a confectionary-inspired orgasm. Dragon's scales, she was lovely. And currently single, if the Weasley grapevine was correct, and it always was. He couldn't believe that he was considering his youngest brother's best mate in a romantic light—

And then she set the bun down and gave him a content, sleepy smile, and his heart melted. Hermione Granger might be the death of him, but what a way to go.

oOo

FIN.

A/N: Written for the Twin Exchange's Monthly Challenge for April! Prompt: St Mungos. Quote: "Eat this."

Thank you for reading and all constructive criticism is appreciated, especially since I haven't written het in the longest time!


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